


Promise

by amuse



Series: Sounds Like Hallelujah [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Series of ficlets, holiday stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuse/pseuds/amuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows there’s no such thing as guarantees, but promise is something too difficult to bank on for how intangible it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

Geno’s got an incredulous look on his face when he drops by the house and there is very little to signify that it’s Christmas. There’s a wreath on the door and a tabletop Christmas tree, but there’s no actual _Christmas tree_ with presents beneath. 

“What?” Sidney asks him pretty oblivious to the issue.

“Why no tree?” Geno asks and ducks around corners and down hallways as if Sidney has one somewhere hiding.

“Why do I need one? We spend the day at Mario’s. They’ve got all of the Christmas we can handle.” Sidney doesn’t usually second guess himself, especially when his life has been so characterized by routine and what he does day after day, week after week, and year after year. Sure, he and Taylor have their own place now, but the holiday is the same.

“Sister not want?”

“She hasn’t asked?” Sidney says with a small shrug, but isn’t sure she actually would if it was something she wanted. “Geno, do you think that she,” he stops, feeling sightly stricken. “God, she must think I’m a complete failure. What do I do? It’s Christmas _Eve_!”

“No, no, Sid, she not think that. You put gifts under Mario’s tree and she will love.” Geno’s tone smoothes out. Sidney knows it’s meant to soothe him, but it just serves to agitate him more.

“No, Geno. You don’t get it. She never asks for anything. Except for what she absolutely needs. She wouldn’t say anything if she wanted it.”  
 Geno sighs heavily and then pats Sidney’s arm. “Okay. I got this,” he says and doesn’t elaborate or give Sidney a chance to ask what exactly he had. He’s squishing into his shoes and pulling on his coat and flying out the door like some kind of superhero. 

Sidney’s only just starting to realize that having faith extends not just to the universe but to people. He’s seen Mario and his family restore so much of it, but the road is so long that he often finds himself too afraid to look all the way down. He knows there’s no such thing as guarantees, but promise is something too difficult to bank on for how intangible it is. 

And when Geno returns, he’s out of breath at Sidney’s door, “Come help.”

“Help with what?” Sidney asks as he pulls on his shoes, not bothering with a coat. Geno’s car is stuffed with bags from Target, and bungee chorded to the top, is a tree. A big fucking Christmas tree and Sidney’s eyes are wide and awed as he gasps, “Geno, what did you do?”

“Home Depot open late. Target too. You not have much so I just buy. Come, help. Guys use many chords to tie on roof.”

It takes them almost 45 minutes to get the tree off of the roof and into the house with the rest of the bags that had been crunched in Geno’s backseat. Sidney can’t help standing on the threshold of his living room and staring at it all in wonder and some part shame. “You didn’t have to do all of this. I could have... if you just stayed...” Sidney stops because he doesn’t even know if he’d have had the kind of abandon needed to pull off something like this. 

“I know but I want,” Geno says simply as he shrugs. “Know things hard for you. You take too much on self and I can do. I like to do. Parents not here, no kids.”

That keeps Sidney’s shoulders from slumping, and he can hear Nathalie telling him that it’s okay to take help, that it’s okay to need it. He’s going to forget, and he’s going to mess up, and he’s simply not going to know what to do every time. There are still people who can - and want to - help pull him up. It’s Christmas Eve, and Sidney doesn’t think it matters one way or another whether Geno celebrates this way. He’s still far away from his family, and that makes Sidney squirm with a feeling that’s becoming increasingly familiar. It’s a feeling of wanting to make Geno happy, too.

“Let’s do this then,” he says, and there’s determination edging his voice. He starts digging into the bags and emptying them of all of the boxes that contain lights and ornaments that will adorn the tree. He finds the tree stand and it takes the both of them, swearing and snipping at each other, to get the balsam in and steady.

“We have to put aspirin in the water,” Sidney says while tightening the bolts into the trunk of the tree. He doesn’t know why he remembers that particular detail of Christmases with his folks but it’s there and it’s tangible, and he feels it pull at his chest. That pull threatens to draw moisture from his eyes but he fights that the way he’s always fought it, and he looks at Geno who’s quietly watching him. 

It takes a few minutes, and one of the things that’s always made Sidney so comfortable when it comes to this friendship is how Geno waits him out. He doesn’t push unless Sidney needs to be pushed and that line is something so fine, it’s amazing that Geno _can_ walk it. It’s amazing to Sidney that Geno doesn’t even have to try. 

“My dad used to do the lights,” Sidney finally says. “He cut the tree down and he did the lights. After that, it was all up to my mom and me and then later Taylor, too. She used to start baking cookies after Thanksgiving and there was always a ton of them right until New Years.”

Geno’s got boxes of lights out on the coffee table. He’s been testing them to make sure they all work. He’s pulling the wire from their plastic tray and handing an end to Sidney. “We string together. Start new tradition.”

Sidney can feel the warmth of the idea coloring his cheeks. It battles with some bit of residual guilt that he actually can feel something like that. He knows his parents wouldn’t want it that way, that they’d want him to find joy, but sometimes he just can’t get past thinking that he’s here and they’re not, and it just isn’t fair. 

Still, he strings the lights with Geno. They just keep adding box after box until the tree is covered in them. Geno plugs it in and yes. Yes, it looks like Christmas. Sidney takes a minute to turn on the television to the 24 hours of A Christmas Story and yes. It can even feel like Christmas. Geno moves to stand beside him, and there’s a moment where Sidney just lets himself go. He tilts his head against Geno’s shoulder, and the intake of breath he hears doesn’t just belong to him. Then Geno’s arm comes around his shoulders and Sidney shudders. 

“Will you stay?” Sidney doesn’t move when he asks the question, and Geno’s still when he answers, “Would like very much.”

Geno doesn’t complain about how Sidney’s couch is too small for him, and there’s coffee in the morning. There’s splendid coffee and something that smells like cinnamon. Geno tells him it’s Monkey Bread, something he and Natalie make all of the time. Sidney looks at the tree, so big and beautiful with every different color ornament and way too many lights. It’s perfect, and Taylor’s eyes light up when she sees it, like it’s the greatest surprise on the planet. She doesn’t rush to the gifts like she did when she was younger, when their parents were alive, but he sees her looking at them. There are many now because Geno hadn’t just bought the store out of Christmas ornaments. They’re all messily wrapped but Sidney can feel how much a part his heart the mess is. It seems to wedge itself even further when Geno hands Taylor an envelope and she shrieks when she reads whatever’s inside.

“The artwork I wanted for my helmet? Really?!” She’s jumping around and into Geno’s arms, kissing him messily on the cheek before turning her happiness to Sidney. “This is the best Christmas, Sid. The best.” 

Geno understands that word and the smile he gives Sidney says that he agrees.


End file.
